Shopping Success
by Kaeru Shisho
Summary: While doing their errands, Quatre and Duo get their Christmas gifts early. Yaoi 2 1, 4 3, 6 5


Shopping Success

A Christmas Story

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

Summary: While doing their errands, Quatre and Duo get their Christmas gifts early. Yaoi 2+1, 4+3, 6+5

A/N: Thanks goes to Waterlily for her editing and wonderful sense of humor threaded throughout this story.

Dedication: I salute you, Dyna Dee!

* * *

><p>Holiday decorations brightened the shop windows. Twinkling lights on evergreen boughs frosted with artificial snow, because there was no real snow on the L4 colony, and what would the winter holiday season be without snow?<p>

Duo had an answer for that (Pick a colony. Go ahead—L1, L2, L3…), but kept it to himself. His sensitive buddy was obsessed with "Everything Christmas" this year and he didn't want to compromise the afternoon with a dash of Duo-bluntness.

He had agreed to a shopping trip as step one, and in return his friend, Quatre, would take up weight lifting. They could exercise together three times a week, and then they would dine, shop, or attend an educational or illuminating event. That was the plan. Something for everyone they had agreed.

Duo sighed as his friend did, only Quatre sighed over the expanse of choices while Duo sighed over the boring waste of time looking for gloves turned out to be.

"Aren't these perfect?" The blond young man held up a pair of butter-soft, ivory-pale gloves fit for a garden party, the kind with tea and crust-free little sandwiches.

"Yeah, if we come up against a nasty enough dog, you can throw them and hope the dog goes for them like meat. C'mon, bud. What you need you can get at the sporting goods shop. These aren't tough enough." Or macho enough, but Duo left that off.

Quatre didn't care about macho. He was man enough the way he was and comfortable in his pastels and rosebud freshness. He allowed a tiny crease between his brows make all the statement of disapproval necessary.

"Oh, all right. Look all you want," Duo groused. He'd find something to look at in the glove shop. He found a window and looked out. With imagination he could see the pier and beyond that a popular sandy cove.

"I just wanna go plank out at the beach."

Quatre stared at him blankly. "Do what?"

"Wanna try a plankwich?"

"I'm not hungry, thank you."

"Aw, man…dude… you don't eat them, you make them by layering people—"

"All right. I can tell you've reached your limit and I'm done here. Now, where is this sweat shop you say I must see?"

"Right this way!" Duo was happy to drop the subject in order to leave. "It's a cool place and run by a couple of super-hot guys, which you should have known about already, since you're the native. This part of town's been revitalized, ya know, on it's own...not one of your projects."

Quatre stopped him mid stride. "Tell me this isn't another one of your hair-brained schemes to hook me up."

It was, but only in part. Duo hoped to hook up with the other of the ownership pair in the process. "Naw, it really is the shit." He knew how Quatre would be impressed by that. Only the best.

Quatre halted. "You told me before that it was rated top notch and now you say its—"

"THE shit. Kick ass excellent. You have got to pick up on the nuances of language, bro."

The blond head shook. "I don't understand half of what you say, Duo."

"Yeah, but you love me 'cause I'm real and I make you have fun."

He and Quatre traded sunny smiles, which made them both break up laughing.

"Like working out," Quatre told him, "At least I did as a child. It's been awhile-"

"Shit, yeah. Burning muscles, hot sweaty bodies, aching butts—"

"—Or maybe I was thinking of _work ouflage._ Like camouflage. Pretending to work," he translated.

Duo made a face. "That's lame, bud."

Quatre's smile faltered as he grabbed hold of the long, brown braid and tugged. "You have a strange concept of fun."

"Not so much. I work. Work isn't fun. Fun is fun." He twirled in a circle, his braid swinging in a wide arc, arms wide. "So let's get a move on, 'kay?"

"You told me you loved your salvage job. 'Recycling at its finest', you called it."

"It's okay. People pay me to take shit they don't want and then I turn it into crap other people will pay good money to take off my hands."

"When you put it that way, you make it sound particularly unsanitary."

Duo rethought what he'd said, found nothing wrong, and shrugged. "There's a kind of crazy stupid balance I like about it."

Quatre shook his head, giving up trying to explain his attempt at a joke. "It's good for my company, too. We can claim a nearly one hundred percent sustainability to our process by relying on your company's services."

"Right, so it's all good, but that doesn't make it fun." Duo liked returning to his initial point and driving it home. "Meeting a hot guy who goes for me and takes me dancing? That would be crazool!"

Quatre opened his mouth to comment, but Duo was on a roll.

"No more dickheads, assholes, or dipshits either. And not another emosexual! God, I must be some kind of a dick magnet for all who suffer from the epic fail syndrome, ya know?"

"You have made a few bad choices in the past, that's all. You're friendly and attractive, so if you don't limit your picks to losers who hang out at bars, I think you'll find someone."

"Oh My God check out that man. He is so yummalicous I could—"

"Point in fact. He's trying to sell us drugs. Loser, Duo."

Duo yanked open the glass door. "After you."

They didn't go right in; they stopped in front of the fitness building, because Quatre fell in love with an elliptical bike in the window. "My favorite color yellow. It's so fun!"

Two figures appeared at the open door, one leaning against the door jamb and the other blocked the entry.

The door-blocker looked like one put-out Chinese man. "While you make up your mind whether or not to come inside, close the door."

Pulling at his friend's shirt to drag him along, Duo only made it halfway inside. While the sour-faced man had moved back into the cavernous room, the other one holding up the door frame arranged his well-built body just so, permitting Duo to pass while getting an eyeful of hard muscles, straight, dark hair, and broody blues eyes.

"Heh, Christmas is here already," Duo whispered followed by a low, appreciative whistle.

"No hurry," blue eyes said. "If your…friend… wants to window shop, I can take care of you, fix you up with some weights… or something."

"Oh, yeah." Duo felt his intellect go screaming back into the hard to get at recesses of his mind as his brain functions melted under the heat of the weightlifter's hotness. This was the sexiest of the awesome stud-pair he'd seen before. "I'm… a… fuck… I know my name… Duo!"

"Heero," blues eyes said. With a nod to the side he introduced his partner, "Wufei. Don't let his attitude get to you. He's waiting for his boyfriend from across the street to collect him for lunch."

"Lunch? Yeah, I can understand. Hunger pisses me off, too."

They heard Wufei's voice from the back wall weight unit. "Pain is only weakness leaving the body!"

Heero and Duo both rolled their eyes then snorted, then smirked at their mirrored responses.

(o)

Like a robin following the ripe berries of fall into winter and browsing where fate and appetite took him, Quatre had turned to gaze across the street, longing to visit Chez Antique rather than the House of Pain this place appeared to be.

His shop surfing paid off when a man in a tweed jacket and leather pants appeared at the entrance under a drape of holly and glitter-dusted, periwinkle bows. Two men, but only one was worth his consideration.

Out of the corner of his eye, Quatre could see Duo reach around for him and flap his hands in thin air instead. "Ah, Quat?"

"You're on your own,"said Quatre, departing. How he'd gravitated to the other side of the street, he couldn't say, but there he was, twiddling the ribbon on an adult-sized three-wheeled bicycle.

"Enjoy lunch," said the leather-and-tweed man to thetallblond, who was leaving. "I can handle this customer."

Quatre looked up from beneath his flaxen bangs- his inspection passing with rapt attention over the snug leather with enticing bulge, whisking past the well-tailored, nubby, gold-and-rust-flecked wool and the slip of grey silk shirt and matching tie- to meet the single visible green eye of the antique store's clerk.

A warm firm hand took his for a welcoming shake. "Hello. I'm Trowa and this is my store…and his," meaning thetallblond who'd crossed the curb and was about to glide into the fitness building. "Nice ride." He, too, caressed the tricycle handlebars. "It's very old. The bike."

"I couldn't care less," Quatre told him. He blinked, batting his eyelashes in an unmistakably flirtatious manner. "About the bike, that is."

"Oh, yeah? Is there something else I can interest you in?" The corner of his mouth twitched, smiling fractionally.

Quatre shook off the seductive tone, pleased to have earned it; he hadn't lost his touch. He'd stayed clear of romantic entanglements for a year. There had been a slew of men after his money since he'd "come out", and abstinence seemed preferable. Until today. Maybe Duo was right about trying new things? "Have you any antique ornaments? I'm particularly fond of glass."

"We still have a few." Trowa transposed into a professional demeanor as comfortably as he fit into those made-for-him leather pants. "The cheaper ones went early on."

"I realize that." Quatre smiled to take off the harshness of his statement. "Shop early if you want the best choices, but I like to hunt out special treasures year-around."

He followed the other man into a side room, eyes on the moving target. Hot as Trowa was, Quatre gave an involuntary shiver. "Now I understand how you can work in those clothes."

"Cold?" Trowa reached around and switched on a tiny floor heater. "Yeah, we keep it pretty chill, but not entirely by choice."

"The cost of heating can be high on a colony," Quatre guessed. He'd never actually paid a utility bill, but his company's accountant complained regularly.

"And cooling in summer, especially in a big place like this with separate rooms requiring individual controls. So, my partner fires it up in the morning and then shuts it off when we open."

"And you dress in layers." Quatre liked teasing a smile from the easy-going man.

"I'm a layered kind of guy." He said this softly as he sashayed around a desk of dark, polished oak.

Quatre chuckled as he was expected to. He breathed deeply and felt transported to the woods on Earth. Swathing a Victorian fireplace and over the doorways billowed boughs of greenery. "Those are _real_ pine!"

"And fir from Sanc. Yeah." Trowa lifted a glass bauble adorning an arrangement in an overflowing urn. He handed it to Quatre for his inspection. "My business partner does his buying expeditions on Earth. He has connections there, you might say. He has the greenery shuttled here, if you can believe that."

"I never thought to do it, but next year I might. I love it!"

"It's pricey."

"It's worth every penny." Quatre inhaled again and smiled.

"I'll bet we can add what you need to our order and save freight."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure. No trouble. Next year. Leave me your card. I'll put a note on it, if you like."

The handsome man hadn't seemed to recognize him yet and Quatre liked being an ordinary guy at times and not the CEO of the largest company on the colony. He wasn't eager to give up his anonymity just yet.

"I'll do that before I go."

"Okay. So, what do you think of that one?" Trowa asked, pointing to the glass ornament Quatre held.

"It's nice and simple. It could mix with more elaborate ones."

"Oh, I got some like that. From fine to extraordinarily gaudy. This way."

He stroked the tops of a cabinet with his fingertips as they passed by. "These furniture pieces are lovely."

That made Trowa laugh aloud. "Those are Sanc Red Oak. You bet they're lovely."

"Oh, my! They belong in a museum." _Or my house_, Quatre nearly added, but stopped himself. He didn't want to go waving money all over the place, as his friend Duo would accuse him of doing. He wanted to buy a few nice little things and not go overboard. And then buy the shop assistant and have him sent, neatly wrapped, to his house…

"I agree. Zechs, my partner here at the shop, brought them recently. I accused him of raiding the palace and he went apoplectic over that, so the subject was dropped."

Quatre's curiosity was piqued now. "You think they're … hot… (drat Duo and his contagious lingo!) I mean, stolen?"

"I think something is hot around here, but not those." For a second, both Trowa's eyes were visible. They twinkled boldly and Quatre's breathed hitched with excitement. Then the caramel fall of hair swung over one side of his face as he looked away, cheeks pinked a little. "No, it's an inside joke. Sorry. He has contacts, as I said before. Younger nobility selling their inheritances from the older generation to maintain their rock-star lifestyles."

"I see. That's understandable."

Trowa appeared to be back in professional mode again. "I can't imagine the luxury of owning real treasures like those, but I do enjoy caring for them while I can." He pulled velvet-lined trays off a high shelf and lined them up on a glass counter. "Now, back your interests. These were blown from glass made from a meteor shower. Pretty, huh ?"

"Oh, yes!" They were marvelously odd, Quatre thought, like the shopkeeper he found himself becoming more and more drawn to. "I wish I understood the chemistry behind how these were created. If I could go back to college, I'd study science the second time through and not business management."

"Science would be good to know. Physics sounds interesting. I took one round of that, but the labs really cut out hours of time from your schedule."

"What did you study?" Quatre could tell he was well educated.

"History, which is how I got started here. Zechs was graduating and had this place and I came along."

"And now you're surrounded with old things to research every day."

"That's right."

"That must be satisfying, doing what interests you."

"Sometimes it is. Other times… it's a little quiet."

They smiled and put their heads together for a little while, sorting the "I must have's" from the "not for me's." Quatre was happy not to have had to share his work history with the other man. He liked being just a customer and a little flirty and not having to represent his company. Or impress this lovely Trowa person with anything but his conversation.

"So, tell me about this one. I love the colors inside—"

The tinkling of a bell alerted them both to the front door.

"Excuse me. I ought to check this out." Trowa rose to his feet and moved to the passageway to get a look at the front.

A man's footfalls and husky voice sounded up the hall. "Trowa?"

"Back here… with a customer. Come meet him." He turned toward Quatre, who was standing also. "I don't even know your name."

Before he could tell him, a man appeared. He stooped slightly to enter, swinging a mane of silvery, straight hair over his shoulder and out of his eyes. Now that he could see his face up close, Quatre recognized thetallblond he'd seen leaving as he'd arrived, really recognized him.

"You ought to," thetallblond said, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

It was too late to stop him from revealing his own identity, so he did the next best thing to take the heat off the flustered young man next to him. He extended his hand and said, "I'm sure Trowa recognized me as Quatre Winner. He's been so kind not to rub my face in it and made me feel very welcome here."

"I'm known as Zechs Merquise since I've relocated to L4. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance and I hope we can all be friends."

Quatre peeked to his side. Trowa had gone silent since his admission. He hoped he hadn't spoiled their fragile friendship by not introducing himself initially. "That would be splendid."

Trowa dipped his chin a fraction, keeping his participation to a bare minimum.

Quatre bridged the awkwardness by showing Zechs a few of the pretty Christmas balls he'd picked out. "I think this one with the pearlized finish is my favorite."

"Yes. Good choice. If you have a moment, I might interest you in something in my private collection." Zechs stepped out of the room, his footsteps the only sound in the room.

Quatre closed in on Trowa. He didn't want to lose the feeling he'd been getting from him, the mutual attraction. "I should have said something. I'm sorry, but I liked how we were getting along."

Trowa stared at him, in particular the hand that landed on his sleeve and was inching down towards his hand. "I figured it out when you didn't show your card." Meaning that he'd concluded Quatre hadn't wanted to be Mr. Winner of WEI this afternoon.

He trapped Trowa's hand between his and when he didn't try to pull away, Quatre knew he had him. "You're practiced at hiding people's secret identities."

He watched as the shopkeeper ran his free hand through his long bangs, parting them enough to look out with both eyes.

"You noticed how I kicked the playboy Prince of Sanc down to the level of a mere business partner?"

It returned! The little smile, which Quatre had loved seeing before, appeared just for him. Trowa's shouldered relaxed and there was a return to tranquility. Quatre could feel it in the hand he held and when he tightened his grip, he felt a reassuring squeeze back.

"Ha!" Quatre's laughter bounced off the wood paneling.

"Did I miss something good?" Zechs asked on his return, making a show of having intruded on them. "No?"

Trowa muttered something under his breath that Quatre didn't catch, but that Zechs, apparently did, because he clucked his tongue dismissing his younger partner's coarseness as he dusted off a lacquered box with a monogramed handkerchief.

Quatre couldn't make out the initials, but thought the last one was a "P". "Milliardo Peacecraft" had been his name as Crowned Prince of the Sanc Kingdom.

"Well, I found them, but I don't know if they are as dazzling as I remembered them. Still, these may be of some interest to you, if only to take a look at a bygone age of grandeur."

The lid lifted to reveal six blown glass ornaments, embellished in gold—Quatre assumed it was pure gold- with the royal crest. A stag and a doe, a pair of bears, two large cats, he thought were called mountain lions.

"Oh, these are beautiful!"

"They are nice out in the light. There used to be a set of birds and a set of smaller animals, but they remain with my sister, or they've been broken. Here, you take them. A gift."

"Zechs, I can't—"

"Please do. They're wasted in a closet. I won't use them and I couldn't sell them to just anybody, could I? No. And I know I can trust a Winner. Really, I'd much rather know you were enjoying them."

"Better take them," Trowa urged him, placing each animal in its nest of shredded paper as he spoke, "or he'll make me mail them to you."

"Okay. Thank you very much. I'll cherish them, but you know that, and should you ever want them back—"

"I won't but, thank you for offering. Trowa, shouldn't you take your break before the afternoon rush?"

"That's right. Say, Quatre, would you like lunch out someplace?"

"Lunch, that sounds very nice. Oh! What time is it?"

"Twelve thirty. Don't tell me you turn into a pumpkin-."

"No, but I totally forgot about Duo, my friend, he wanted me to sign up at the fitness club with him. I ended up over here and—"

"Duo… he doesn't wear his hair in a long braid, does he? Quiet man?"

"The braid, yes. Quiet? I wouldn't describe him that way."

"I wouldn't worry about your…friend. Mister Yuy has taken him under his wing, so to speak."

"But I just left him!"

"C'mon," Trowa said, snaking an arm around Quatre's waist and securing his date. "I'll walk you over there and you can check in on him."

(o)

He'd tried out every piece of equipment and seen every fixture, bench, soaking tub, shower, massage table, and juice bar that a tour of the facilities could include, and then some. He thought the place was awesome, but mostly Duo had been in _awe_ of his new fitness director. He'd turned all his workout plans into the man's able hands.

"Leave me to develop your training schedule," he'd said, and Duo nodded his consent. Complete submission to whatever the workout artist wanted him to do.

He hardly said a word, but listened with rapt attention, hanging on Heero's every word just to see those lips move and imagine them on his.

"Uh, huh."

"So, you don't look to have neglected yourself. What are you doing for a workout now?" Heero asked him.

"Me? Oh, well. Not much lately, which is why I'm here. I just sorta moved here on my bud's recommendation to come visit and I've been mostly trying to get him out and about. Cheer him up and all, ya know?"

"You don't live here then?" Heero frowned.

"Oh, I do now! I can run a scrapyard of space debris and recycled substructure anywhere. Ah, that's what I do. Big machinery. Keeps me in shape, doing that. Um. So, I'm here now permanent like. Looking for ways to fit in and make it feel more like-"

"More like home?"

"Yeah. So, ah, what do you do besides work out here?"

"For stress relief, I go to the shooting range."

"That's great! I do that too, sorta. I target vermin on the scrap, which is not exactly the same, I know…"

"It can be harder. Animals move and they're small." His eyes narrowed as if he were trying to picture himself taking aim at faraway, tiny, moving objects, and then he grinned. "I'd like to do that. How do you get away with it? It can't be legal. You could crack the colony lining."

Duo rubbed the back of his neck, relieving a bit of new tension gathering there. "There is that. I use air guns and pellet ammo I've concocted into pretty fair working material. It works. It's safe. And it's mostly legal. Not too many cops policing the scrapyards and I'm real quiet about it-"

His breath caught in his throat the second Heero's warm hand landed on his shoulder. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it sent a jolt of sexual electricity across his chest and down to his groin.

"Hey it's okay," Heero said, his voice low and soothing, "I'm not reporting you or anything."

"Aw shucks…" Duo just plain melted on the spot, or felt like he was melting. He was certainly falling for this guy hard and fast.

One minute he was listening attentively, the next, he was in Heero's arms, passionately kissing the object of his desire. Heero seemed content with how things had worked out. He wasn't pushing Duo away.

And then he felt the wall at his back and his chest crushed by an equally hard chest. A growl, not coming from either of them, interrupted Duo's happy time.

"That's not in the contract, in case Yuy's convinced you it is. And there's no extra special Gundanium card membership either."

Duo sighed, no, moaned as the wet mouth left his.

"Chang, deal with the other customers."

"I have been. I came over to remind you to take your lunch break, or lose it. It's your choice, your health."

Duo looked around Heero's neck to meet a pair of black eyes boring into his. "Hi?"

"He works out not to look good, but to make others look bad. Remember that," the Chinese man said, glibly. He spun on a heel and stalked off.

Duo couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up. "Heh, heh! That is so old a joke, 'Fei! I present proof that you have officially jumped the shark."

Wufei stopped and turned his head. "What?"

"You know, the episode where a TV show has reached its creative peak and you know it's the beginning of the end of a once great show? Trust me, it's hilariously bad."

Trowa and Quatre walked in to see Heero with an arm draped over Duo's shoulders, staring down his friend in a domineering manner.

Duo's face lit and he waved. "Hey, Quat! I'm all signed up."

Quatre detached everything but his hand from Trowa. "Wonderful! I bought Christmas ornaments!"

"Yeah, I see him. Hey!" he cried out as Quatre elbowed him in the ribs. "Just kiddin', man. Okay, lemme see your stash."

While Duo picked through Quatre's sack, Heero and Trowa shook hands. They knew each other. They'd worked across the street from one another for a few years. They'd even dated a couple times, enough to discover they should remain platonic friends. And when their respective business partners starting sleeping together, they were occasionally both invited to the same parties.

Wufei joined them in watching the other two. "This solves several problems."

Quatre pulled Duo to the side. "He seems interested in you."

"'Ro? Oh, yeah. Well, I am diggingon him too."

Quatre stared, blinked, and then decided that was a good thing. "Okay."

Trowa unfolded his arms. "We were going for lunch," he told Heero.

"I often skip lunch." Heero continued to watch Trowa for a hint of what to do, possibly. "But I could go now." He tugged on Duo's braid to get him to turn around. "Interested in lunch?"

"Always," Duo said, grinning and patting his flat belly. "I burn calories like crazy."

"I suggest you avoid the Skippy Joes," Wufei put in. "Everything tastes like fried fish. I sincerely doubt they have changed the fat in their fryer in all the 25 years they've been in business."

"I like fish," Duo argued. "Skippy Joes it is!" He bumped Quatre's shoulder. "I was feeling a little bad about the gloves. You not getting any like you wanted. But, looks like you did okay, right?"

"Very right. I consider this to have been a real success," Quatre agreed. He crushed up against Trowa and settled an adoring gaze upon him. "In fact, my first holiday shopping success where I ended up with everything I wanted!"

The end.


End file.
